


Shadowed But Not Lonely

by Cowboy_Sneep_Dip



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Dragon!Corrin, F/F, Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation Spoilers, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Muteness, Recovery, Sign Language, an entirely unrelated Corrin and Azura, cause corrin is a dragon, oh also sex happens, some pretty heavy alterations to canon, trans!corrin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/pseuds/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip
Summary: Two years following the fall of Anankos, Corrin and Azura work to balance a new life of peace with the everpresent scars of their past. The memory of torture in the Nohrian dungeons haunts Corrin still, and Azura struggles to cope with her weakening frame in the presence of her own magic abilities. Even so, their life in Valla is one of comfort, of love, and of light.An epilogue of sorts, pain and terror buried in a cavalcade of laughter and kisses and lives twined tightly together.





	Shadowed But Not Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks to @gumwrapper for commissioning me! For clarification, this is a bit of an offshoot of my fic "Candlelight", wherein Corrin is a demihuman dragon rather than the more human-leaning hybrid we have in canon. So if some elements seem similar to that fic, that's why. Actually, a lot of canon is just thrown out the window here. Hope you enjoy!

Azura wakes first. She almost always does, slipping out of bed in her nightgown, yawning, extracting herself from the jumble of limbs and scales. A sleepy purr follows her as she makes her way down the hall to the bathroom, where she stands in front of the mirror and tries in vain to calm the wild tangles of aqua hair. She brushes her bangs from her eyes and yawns again, squinting at the small pocks of fang-bites above her collarbone. She cracks a small smile and lifts the collar of her nightshirt a bit higher.

 

Her bare feet grace the hardwood floors like the nimble steps of a ghost, passing down the hall and into the kitchen. Sunlight creeps through the window, casting beams of light across the table and the oven. Dishes are piled in the sink - dinner last night had been fun, but it was time to pay the piper, lest she had no pans to cook breakfast. She sets a kettle on the stove to boil and begins scrubbing residue from her cast-iron pan. She resists the urge to wipe it clean with water magic - it hurts less to use, here in Valla, but it still wears on her. Instead she opts for magic of a more mundane kind, scraping it clean with soap before rubbing it dry with a towel.

 

Bacon is crackling in the pan by the time soft footfalls pad into the room behind her. Azura smiles, turning her attention from the breakfast to the woman behind her. “Morning, love,” she smiles softly.

 

“Mmhmnm…” Corrin mumbles blearily, rubbing her eyes. She blinks, and when she does her second eyelids pass over the narrow slits of red. The otherworldly terror of her reptilian eyes is cut somewhat by the bags beneath them, and Azura takes her hand and tugs her into a soft embrace.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Azura asks. Corrin nods and nuzzles into her neck.

 

“Bacon and eggs okay?”

 

Corrin pulls back for another bleary yawn, and as she does Azura sees the twin rows of sharp white fangs behind her lips. She nods and sits at the table. Azura pours her a mug of tea.

 

Their mornings were often like this - Azura lording over the oven, humming softly to herself, Corrin slumped against the table, still half-asleep. Her tail swishes lazily on the floor and her silvery wings drape loosely over her back. Corrin reaches up a hand and rubs the back of her neck, and Azura can see a band of jagged white scar pressed into her flesh.

 

“Hurts?”

 

Corrin nods sadly, without looking up. She stretches her shoulders and cracks her neck. She had had nightmares the night prior, and Azura had woken to the sound of Corrin whimpering and clawing at her neck, hands grabbing desperately for a heavy collar that was long since gone. Azura had held her tightly, whispering snatches of song, and pressing kisses into the crook of her neck. She tries not to think about the dried blood under Corrin’s chipped claws.

 

They eat in relative silence, as they always do. Azura speaks, mostly. She was known for her somber silence, but here in their own private space, she was a veritable fountain, her singsong voice telling stories, asking questions, prodding Corrin for nods and head-shakes in response, a bright and cheerful conversation to match the tone of the morning. Through the window she can see the bright Vallite sky, and her heart feels light, unburdened even by the scarred forearms of the woman she is sharing the morning with.

 

It’s a beautiful day, the characteristic Vallite cloudiness replaced with patchy whisps of white in the blue. Their cabin is situated on a ridge of rock wrapped in a grove of trees. Out back is a small pond that reaches out to the very edge of their island, the lake cascading off into the void beyond. Opposite is a trail through the woods, a short walk from the small town they called home.

 

In the mornings, Azura and Corrin would take walks in the woods, or swim in the pond, or bask in the grey Vallite day, relaxing. Corrin hadn’t known how to swim, and Azura was teaching her, slowly but surely. Her wings made such things difficult, but with time the two learned that Corrin’s own beastly heritage must have lent her some skill in the water, and before long the two were swimming with ease. Azura took to floating on her back, her hair splayed in a halo of bright blue, staring up at the sky as Corrin swam in laps around her, weaving and writhing like a seal. She would burst through the surface with all the strength her powerful muscles could muster and tackle Azura, dragging her down to the clear, crystal depths. Azura did have to scold Corrin for eating a whole raw fish once, but since then they had been learning to fish properly together, and Azura would grill their dinner under the fading light of sunset. And they would sit out on the back porch, or on the shore with their toes in the cold water, and they would look at the stars. Azura would tell her stories of the constellations, the ones her own mother always told her - The Dawn and Dusk Dragons, the heroes and villains of the great dragon war eons since passed. Heroes of men, tall tales, trickster gods. Corrin would curl up around her, lulled to sleep by the sound of her voice, her soft purring rippling through Azura like ocean waves.

 

But it’s early, and they would have time for all that later. Or tomorrow, or the following day. Today, though, Azura has plans.

 

She helps Corrin dress, aiding her in slipping her black button-up vest over her torso and shifting the wings out the holes she had cut in the back. Azura smirks and cups Corrin’s bicep.

 

“Look at my big, strong princess,” she remarks playfully. “Working out while I’m not looking?”

 

Corrin laughs, and her voice is soft and musical. She shakes her head.

 

“No?"

 

Corrin protests again, and her brow creases. She lifts her hands and makes a motion. She tries signing, then realizes the words fail her. She flops her arms wildly, mimicking the act of swimming.

 

“Swimming?” Azura laughs, and Corrin grins and nods. “Here, it’s like this,” Azura says, raising her own hands. She signs. __Swim.__  “Like that.”

 

Corrin mimics her awkwardly, her long jagged claws fumbling in the air. Azura takes her hands in her own and helps mold the fingers into the right shape. “See? Like this.”

 

Corrin holds them up and signs. __Swim__. Then she melds it into a question. __Swim today?__  

 

Azura laughs. “Sure, once it warms up a bit. It’s a chilly morning.” Her grin falters as she stares at Corrin’s hands, and her gaze traces back along her arm, past her wrist to faded white scars and needlemarks. She lifts Corrin’s hand to her lips and presses them against her knuckle. “Perhaps something with sleeves, love.”

 

Corrin nods her assent.

 

 

 

The trail between their home and the town proper is narrow, crossing through a grove of trees and over a stone bridge beneath which runs a stream, and Azura takes Corrin’s hand and they walk together, talking and laughing. It is only minutes before the town comes into view, and their smiles melt into something somewhat more somber. They pass the wooden fence marking the town borders and find themselves among white-stone houses clustered together along the broad, paved road.

 

The efforts to rebuild Valla moved slowly, but they moved. The chaos wreaked by the Silent Dragon was not quick to heal, nor were the people quick to forget, but even now the towns and cities began to thrive again. They called this town, Veil Falls, home. The town was bordered by a river and cast in the shadow of a steep cliff face from which cascaded fresh, sparkling water. In the winter, the falls would freeze over, forming a bridge to the island above. The people would chisel out stairways in the ice and line them with colorful lanterns, and the view from the top was said to be incredible.

 

Azura and Corrin would often winter somewhere warmer, usually the capital. They had both had enough of the cold tundra of Nohr.

 

As they walked through the outskirts of town, Azura kept a tight hand wrapped around Corrin’s, holding her close. They were treated kindly enough by the townsfolk, given the circumstances, but it was no secret that Corrin made the people nervous. The silvery wings and dark reptilian eyes too quickly called to mind images of the very monster that brought their kingdom to ruin.

 

But that life was behind them. Corrin had ceded the throne to Lilith, Anankos’ full-blooded daughter, who headed the council charged with rebuilding Valla, leaving Azura and Corrin to live their quiet life in peace. It was behind them - all of it. The swords, the blood, the pain. And the people who shared their home would realize that, one day, even if it took time to heal. Azura understands. Healing and trust take time to grow.

 

She lightly tugs Corrin’s hand, yanking her away from a display of jewelry outside a shop. Corrin pouts.

 

“Remember the traveling merchant’s guild?” Azura teases. “Don’t think I didn’t see you putting those silver earrings in your pocket. It’d do us no good to get run out of town for petty theft.”

 

__Shiny things__. Corrin protests, letting Azura’s hand drop so she can sign. __Habit__.

 

“ _ _I__  know that,” Azura teases, lightly poking her ribs. “But somehow I think the shopkeepers here would take less kindly to your hoarding habits.” Corrin makes a show of sighing with resignation.

 

“Good mornin’, Miss Azura,” a calm voice drifts past them from an open cafe doorway draped with curtains. A bright face pops out, an old woman with a kindly expression. “Thought I heard your voice.”

 

“Good morning, Miss Miranda,” Azura smiles back.

 

“Any interest in breakfast? We’re just opening for the lunch rush, but we could probably fix you and your friend something if you’d like.”

 

“No thank you,” Azura shakes her head politely. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

 

Miranda emerges from the curtains, broom in hand, and begins sweeping the entryway. “Surprised to see you out so early on a weekend. The both of you, at that.”

 

“Well, I have some errands to run. Groceries, that sort of thing. And I heard the bookstore by the river is finally opening today.”

 

“Ah, is that so? I know some of the workers have just finished the restoration.”

 

Azura nods, leaning lightly against the side of the small cafe, grateful for the rest. She lets her eyes drift skyward. She and Miranda chat idly about this, that, and the other thing - the upcoming harvest festival, the weather, news from the capital, all sorts of things. She was perhaps the closest thing to a friend Azura had made since moving here, but she didn’t mind. Her wife certainly kept her hands full as it was.

 

“Should she be doing that?” Miranda frowns, interrupting their conversation and pointing down the street.

 

Azura sighs and smiles. Corrin is at the fountain in the town square, running in circles, her wings flapping wildly behind her. After a moment Azura spies the source of contention - several small children trail her, poking at her tail, laughing. Corrin’s tail, seemingly with a mind of its own, swipes back and the children burst into giggles. Corrin’s wide, toothy grin accompanies her silent laughter.

 

“She sure seems to like kids,” Miranda remarks, shading her eyes with her hand.

  
”Or they like her,” Azura shrugs.

 

Miranda offers a knowing smile. “Oh? Opposed to children?” She nudges Azura In a way that fills her with some strange mixture of anxiety-drenched butterflies.

 

Azura blushes and tucks her face into her shoulder. “Well, I…” She looks up suddenly, eyes lighting with concern. “Oh, no, I should probably go handle this.”

 

She spies Corrin’s tail getting snagged by a child, and Corrin’s playful dance stumbling alarmingly close to the fountain. Azura breaks into a run, but too late - Corrin’s bare feet slip on the pavestones and her knee knocks into the lip of the fountain. She falls into the fountain with a splash, and by the time Azura reaches her, the children have scattered and Corrin sits in a sopping pile beneath the spray from a carved dragon’s mouth. She grins playfully, sheepishly, and Azura crosses her arms over her chest in mock annoyance.

 

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

 

Corrin’s tail flicks a spray of water out and Azura yelps, leaping backwards in a surprised giggle. “Hey!”

 

Corrin pushes herself out of the water, her silvery wings flapping droplets of water into the cool morning air, sparkling like a sheet of diamonds upended into the sky. She lunges to tackle Azura in a hug but her target dances away, tracing a hand through the air and catching the spray of water as if with a net.

 

In a deft sidestep, Azura draws the water out of the air and from Corrin’s soaked frame, leaving her clothes dry and her wings sparkling. She shifts again, directing the water back into the fountain with a splash. She hears a pattering of tiny hands and looks up to see the wide-eyed children responsible for the predicament clapping in amazement. Azura grins playfully and scoops a handful of clear water from the fountain before tossing it towards the alley. The children burst into laughter and scatter into the street.

 

Corrin shivers, wrapping her arms around herself, pouting.

 

“Oh, come,” Azura chastises her. The only sign Corrin was wet at all is her soaked silver hair. Corrin pouts and flaps her head petulantly, like a dog in from the rain, and Azura lifts her hands to shield herself from the shower of droplets.

 

Without warning, Azura slumps against the fountain, out of breath.

 

Corrin wrings out her hair and takes Azura’s wrist, suddenly concerned. Her eyes flash red, worry plastered on her face.

 

“I’m…okay,” Azura waves her hand, trying to shake Corrin off. She presses her other to her chest, stilling her ragged breaths. “Just tired.”

 

Corrin frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. She doesn’t have the vocabulary to chastise Azura for misusing her powers so, but she hopes her scowl can get her point across.

 

Azura lifts her head and flashes a weak smile. “I’m…I’m okay, really. Promise.”

 

Corrin scowls again and sweeps her arms underneath Azura, scooping her up into a bridal carry, bracing her legs with one arm and her shoulders with the other. Azura is always surprised by how light she must seem to Corrin, judging by how simple a matter it was for her to lift her in her arms. She squirms halfheartedly, too weak or too content to really protest. “Corrin, really, I-”

 

Corrin, deaf to her pleas, marches through the town square, her tail swishing in the dust behind her, Azura draped in her arms. She’s asleep before they even reach the edge of town.

 

 

 

 

Azura wakes slowly, her head fuzzy and her ears filled with the sound of rushing water. Or perhaps roaring blood. She sees sunspots and blinks, trying to focus her vision. She’s in bed, at home, still dressed but on the couch, swathed in blankets. Corrin kneels at her side, concern plain on her face. She lifts her hands.

 

__Feel okay?_ _

 

Azura nods. “T-thank you, Corrin.” She reaches for a glass of water Corrin must have set on the end table. The water tastes clean, almost sweet compared to the sticky feeling of bile in her throat. She gulps it down. “I’m feeling better now. Thank you.”

 

Corrin’s brow furrows. __No magic.__

 

“I know,” Azura nods.

 

Corrin’s fingers are frantic, her clarity marred by her concern. __You…promise.__

__

“I know I promised,” Azura pushes herself to sit up, and her head rings. Dizziness washes over her. “I’m sorry.”

 

__You okay?__  Corrin signs again.

 

Azura nods, and Corrin pushes herself to her feet and wraps around Azura in a tight hug, wings and all coalescing around her in a silvery cocoon of warmth and light, and Corrin presses her lips to Azura’s brow, relieved.

 

“Okay, okay,” Azura giggles, her voice’s musical quality returning at last. She lightly pushes Corrin back. “It was just a fainting spell, no need to get all worked up about it.”

 

__Worried__ , Corrin withdraws at last.

 

“Yes, I’m sorry I worried you.” Azura takes Corrin’s hand and stands. “Thank you for taking care of me, dear.” She kisses her lightly on the cheek. “Well, I suppose that means we won’t make it to the bookstore before it closes,” she sighs, gazing out the window at the dimming daylight. “I had been hoping to pick up some new books for you.”

 

Corrin shakes her head.

 

“No?” Azura smiles. “Don’t you get tired of me reading the same old stories over and over?”

 

__Sound pretty._ _

 

“Even the scary ones?” she teases.

 

Corrin pouts and shakes her head, and Azura relents. Corrin never cared much for ghost stories. Rattling chains and dark corridors seemed to recall memories that were better left buried. She bristles.

 

“Teasing, love. Just teasing.” Azura speaks softly, raising a hand to brush Corrin’s chin. She plants her lips against her jaw. “Are you hungry? I could start dinner.”

 

 

 

It takes some time before Azura feels like herself again - it always does, even with the buffer that Valla provides her. Her magic drains her, makes her weak and feeble. In Nohr it had nearly killed her; each time she sang her song she found herself on her knees in the dirt, coughing up blood, the heavy price to pay for the curse in her blood. But it was a small price to pay, compared to the toll others had taken. She often thought of the others; wondering where they were, and how they were doing. Xander and Ryoma were no doubt still butting heads over policy, and Leo and Takumi over whatever their grudge match of the week was about. She wondered if Camilla had confessed to Hinoka yet, or if those mysterious soldiers in the Nohrian army ever returned to their homeland. As she sets to work preparing dinner, her mind turns again to Corrin, to the figure at her table. The half-breed monster, prisoner-turned-unlikely war hero. She still bears the scars of her mistreatment at the hands of the Nohrian nobles, and Azura wondered how she could bear to hold such love in her heart, even for those that wronged her. The gods know Azura was not capable of such compassion and forgiveness. She smiles and hums, watching Corrin.

 

Unlike during breakfast, Corrin is upright, her wings twitching at attention, her tail swishing through the air in the languid motions of a cat figuring how best to open a tin of snacks.

 

Corrin has a pen clutched in one hand, and she practices writing. Her strokes are jagged and uneven, the lengths seemingly random. Her handwriting reminds Azura of the Hoshidan schoolchildren. Corrin had never learned to write, but she was learning, even if it was a slow process. She traces out another stroke of her pen, finishing a large character. She holds it up.

 

“ _ _Tree__ ,” Azura reads, nodding. “Very good. Though the line at the top is a little too long.” She leans over Corrin’s arm and takes the pen, slowly drawing a smaller character. “See? Like this.” Corrin nods. Azura returns the pen and watches Corrin try again, this time making a somewhat neater letter. “Much better!” She praises Corrin, patting her lightly on the head. “We’ll have you writing novels in no time.”

 

Corrin sticks her tongue out.

 

Azura returns to the stove to finish cooking dinner, periodically stopping to help Corrin with her lessons, to adjust letters or help with tricky concepts. Corrin still hasn’t gotten a proper handle on homonyms, but Azura figures it will all come with time. She’s a quick learner, and even in the past few months her progress has been remarkable. Once upon a time Azura and Corrin would sit on the couch and Azura would read to her, thumbing through pages of thin novels, tales of princesses and knights and heroes. Now, though, Corrin can almost manage limping through simple books on her own, provided Azura is there to help with tricky phrases.

 

And she still does read aloud, both harder books Corrin can’t handle and simpler things, just because Corrin loves hearing her voice so. It’s a natural fit - the born performer and the most adoring audience she could ever wish for. Sometimes, on a night like tonight, Corrin’s restless energy gets the better of her.

 

“Is this okay?” Azura asks, hooking her arm around Corrin’s waist, twining her other hand in Corrin’s. Corrin nods, and Azura sings softly, taking Corrin in her arms, their bare feet twisting in elegant patterns on the carpet to the tune of her soft tones. Corrin, in her own words, has two left feet, but she’s a great lover of dancing. She rests a hand on Azura’s waist gently, letting her take the lead as the two dance in the evening twilight. Their back porch is an open deck looking out over the gentle slope down to the lake, and Corrin set metal lamps along the perimeter, forming an elegant dance floor bathed in soft orange light. Stars twinkle in the sky overhead, and Azura hums softly. It’s a tune Corrin remembers from the performers in Cyrkensia - a ballad about a gallant pirate, perhaps. The language is a little too flowery for her to get, but she knows the tune and can hum along.

 

Azura spins, twirling Corrin around her, and Corrin leans into it, tucking in her wings and drawing her tail around herself in a swirl of silver and a splash of water around her feet. The music rises from Azura’s lungs in a crescendo matching the patter of her bare feet against he wood. Corrin laughs, backing up and misspelling, and Azura catches her, tugging her into a soft embrace before letting her go again.

 

“Something funny?” Azura smiles, letting Corrin go to rest.

 

__Pretty.__  Corrin signs, smiling. She wraps her arms around Azura’s waist and tugs her into a tight embrace, pressing her lips into her own. She withdraws, eyes sparkling, her red pupils reflecting the flickering orange lamplight.

 

“I love you, you dork,” Azura says softly, returning the kiss. She looks wistfully at the sky. “It’s getting a bit late, I think. Ready to turn in for the night?”

 

 

 

 

“You know,” Azura says, leaning across the bed and tidying the comforter. “Miranda said something interesting to me today.” She straightens the pillows and stands upright, smoothing her silk shift and tugging the lace hem lower on her legs.

 

Corrin sticks her head out from the bathroom, toothbrush still stuck in her sharp teeth, an inquisitive look on her face.

 

“She said you’re quite good with children.” Azura could hear the sound of Corrin rinsing in the bathroom and continued. “I’ve half a mind to think she’s expecting us to-”

 

Corrin rounds the corner, wrapped in a askew bath towel, her face a bright scarlet, shaking her hands. Her slightly damp hair clings to her shoulders, though she already pushed it back with her headband.

 

“No?” Azura asks, an air of mischief in her voice. She slides off the bed and takes Corrin in her arms, pressing her lips to Corrin’s ear. “Could be fun.”

 

Corrin squirms in her grip, blushing. Azura drops her lips lower, kissing Corrin’s ear, cheek, then neck, and Corrin lurches forward, propelled by a light flap of her wings, and wraps her arms tightly around Azura’s waist.

 

She presses her lips into Azura’s neck and bites softly. Azura laughs and pushes lightly back. “Hey, there. A little excited?” In response, Corrin’s fangs sink into her skin and she lets out a gasp. “O-oh,” she stammers, shifting backwards on the bed, letting her hands drape loosely over Corrin’s waist. She cups Corrin’s hips and tugs her, urging her closer, and Corrin’s lips shift from beneath Azura’s jaw to the crook of her neck. She kisses again, somewhat more tenderly, and Azura laughs.

 

“Y-your tongue tickles, you know,” she murmurs, tracing a hand up Corrin’s back and dancing on the back of her head.

 

Corrin nods into her and bites again, her fangs nipping at the delicate flesh of her collar.

 

“You do know?” Azura teases. “So you’re doing this on purpose?”

 

Corrin wraps her arms around Azura and tackles her back onto the bed, letting her towel drop to the floor in a damp pile of haphazard cotton. Azura’s breath catches in her throat; it always does, seeing her splayed out before like this. Her eyes drift to Corrin’s body - lithe, pale, speckled with scars. Some are jagged and ugly, some are light pink lines traced across her legs, though none rival the band of scarred flesh around her neck. Azura gazes at her, her heart caught between pity and admiration. She was beautiful, that couldn’t be denied. Even with the sharpness of her claws, her toothy fanged grin, and her silvery wings draped over her back, she was beautiful.

 

Corrin frowns. __Bad?__  She signs nervously.

 

Azura smiles and shakes her head. “You’re beautiful,” she says softly, taking Corrin’s hand in her own. She lifts it to her lip and kisses, tugging Corrin closer and lifting her own fingers to trace Corrin’s lips. She kisses Azura’s fingers back. Azura trails her fingers lower, drawing along the sharp angle of Corrin’s jaw, tracing the ridge of scarred flesh on her neck, and dropping lower, trailing down her collarbones, between her breasts. There’s a scar there, right above her heart, and Azura rests her hand on Corrin’s chest, feeling the heartbeat. It’s slower that normal, even though Corrin’s clearly wound up. Her eyes are closed and her chest heaves with anticipation, and her heart is slow. Azura knows the blood running through her veins is thicker, darker, sweeter than human blood. Because she isn’t human, even if she looks like it. Even if she responds like one. Even if she has the same wants and needs as any being.

 

Corrin lifts her hand to Azura’s and gently guides it lower, and Azura cups Corrin’s breast and squeezes lightly. Corrin squirms in her half-kneel above Azura and lets slip a mewl. Azura grins mischievously and lifts her other hand to Corrin’s opposite breast. “Is this okay?”

 

Corrin nods desperately, visibly clenching and unclenching her hands, trying not to grasp Azura’s own and put them the places she so urgently needs them. She lets Azura knead her chest, drawing out whimpering gasps. Corrin drapes herself over Azura and crawls languidly onto her, her wings wrapping around them in a cocoon of silvery light, and she presses her lips into Azura’s. Azura can feel Corrin’s lips curve into a smile in the kiss and she shifts her hands around, wrapping them around Corrin’s bare back, gently tracing the ridges of her spine and pressing into the muscle beneath the roots of her wings. Corrin shudders.

 

“S-sorry!” Azura stammers, scooting back. “Did that hurt?”

 

Corrin grins and shakes her head, laughing silently. She tries signing, but the words fail her. She frowns. __Funny?__  She tries. __Feels…funny?__

 

Azura pushes herself up on her elbows and furrows her brow. “Feels funny? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

 

Corrin shakes her head and ducks down, hooking her fingers into the hem of Azura’s shirt and lifting before dancing her claws gently across her bare stomach, Azura’s muscles tense and she giggles. “S-stop it!” she laughs. “That tickles!”

 

Corrin sits up triumphantly. __That!__

__

__“__ Tickles?” Azura confirms. “So it tickles when I do __this__?” she pushes herself off the bed and wraps her arms around Corrin, making use of her new knowledge to disarm her and flip their positions, dropping Corrin to her back on the bed. Azura mounts her, bracing herself against Corrin’s chest, straddling her. Corrin squirms underneath her, trying to urge Azura lower, towards her pelvis. Azura dives down, pressing herself into Corrin’s neck in a flurry of lips, trailing kisses and nips of her teeth from her collar to her lips, and she traps Corrin’s bottom lip between her teeth. Corrin’s mouth lolls and she catches Azura’s mouth in her own, her long draconic tongue snaking between her lips and tangling itself with Azura’s. Azura groans into the kiss, her sound muffled by Corrin’s mouth, and she slips her arms around Corrin’s head and buries her hands in the cascades of silver hair.

 

Corrin’s black headband is knocked to the floor with a dull thump and it’s like a dam of silver water breaks, mingling with the mess of Azura’s own aqua locks. Azura breaks the messy kiss first, extracting herself from Corrin’s tongue, breathless, and Corrin tilts up to catch the thin line of saliva between their lips. She kisses Azura again, her wings curling out from underneath her, and she desperately grasps the hem of Azura’s shirt. She tugs it upwards and Azura’s limber naked form straddles her, her own body framed in a tangle of blue hair.

 

Corrin slumps back on the bed, breathless, staring up at the woman astride her; her flushed cheeks, her collar peppered with fangmarks, the saliva trailing from her lips, her heaving chest. And Corrin squeezes her eyes shut, blinking slowly, a purr of affection building in her throat. Her tail snakes up between her legs and brushes Azura’s back. She feels content, her arousal plateauing for just a moment before Azura shifts backwards and grinds her hips into Corrin’s.

 

“Excited?” Azura’s sultry voice teases, grinding backwards into the growing presence of Corrin’s arousal. She shifts backwards farther, pressing into Corrin’s hips, a mounting pressure building against her. Azura’s breath deepens. “You’re hard,” she teases, drawing a finger down Corrin’s bare stomach.

 

Corrin nods, trying to arc her spine and press upwards against Azura, anything for even an ounce of friction against her core. Azura slinks backwards, pressing her lips between Corrin’s breasts, against her stomach, then lower, trailing her tongue from Corrin’s navel to her groin.

 

Corrin whimpers as Azura’s lips brush lightly against her cock and she twitches. Azura grins up at her from between her legs and wraps her slender fingers around Corrin, squeezing lightly, and Corrin shudders in her grip. Corrin pushes herself up slightly, propping up on her elbows, gazing with some degree of wondrous mischief at the woman between her legs. Her breathing deepens, her chest heaving, and she snakes her tail from her back to caress Azura’s skin. She lurches with surprise as Azura takes her in her mouth.

 

A mewl escapes Corrin’s lips as she thrusts her hips in time with the movements of Azura’s head, up and down, her lips wrapped around Corrin. Corrin shifts, squirming, reaching a hand down to tangle in Azura’s hair, snagging her scalp and keeping her locked in place as she thrusts with increasing fervor, her whimpers deepening into groans of pleasure. Azura’s mouth feels so warm and wet around her, and her movements grow ragged as she builds to a climax, the electric passion sparking through her veins. Her head knocks against the headboard and she yelps.

 

Azura immediately sits up. “Oh, Corrin!”

 

Corrin winces sheepishly and laughs, slumping against the bed and rubbing her scalp.

 

“Are you alright?” Azura crawls forward on her and takes her chin in her hands, rotating her head to get a look. “Let me see.”

 

Corrin laughs again, her voice musical, and she shakes her head. __Just a bump__. She grins, biting her lower lip with her fangs. And signs again. __Fooled you.__

 

Azura cocks her head to the side. “Fool-” Before she manages to ask, Corrin shifts, grasping Azura’s hips and snagging the hem of her underwear in her claws. She tugs with surprising deftness and the silk panties slip off, joining the pile of discarded clothes at the foot of the bed. Azura giggles and blushes, propping herself up and resting on Corrin’s torso. She lowers her head and kisses Corrin’s forehead. “Well, then. What do you plan to do with me?”

 

Corrin wraps a hand around each side of Azura’s waist, digging her thumbs into Azura’s stomach, urging her lower. Azura obeys, the feeling of Corrin’s erection pressing against her backside, and she shifts again. Corrin lets out a cry of pleasure when Azura presses down and she slips inside. Azura, too, gasps as she feels Corrin inside her. Her breath catches and she steadies herself by bracing her arms on Corrin’s chest.

 

Corrin stares at her with half-lidded eyes, intoxicated with pleasure. Azura feels so warm, so soft, like fire in her groin, and she lays motionless for a moment, watching Azura’s lithe movements: her tense, slender stomach, her muscular arms, her soft lips parting as she sighs. Azura moves up and down with elegant, practiced motions. She kneads Corrin’s breasts, a dopey smile crossing her face as Corrin whimpers. “You like that?” she teases. Corrin nods desperately, the trance broken, and she lifts her hands to tangle her fingers in Azura’s. She squeezes their threaded fingers together, her hips bucking.

 

Azura’s singsong voice becomes a melody of whimpers, of sighs, as Corrin thrusts into her, their motions finally syncing up to a tandem whirl of pleasure and soft lips and tangled hair and clutching fingers. Azura can feel Corrin’s building pleasure, her movements dissolving to wild thrusts of desperation rather than rhythm, and she brushes her tangled blue bangs from her hair. Her sparkling gold eyes meet Corrin’s dark red, and she nods, she pants, a silent beg for release.

 

Corrin twitches insider her, and Azura braces herself on Corrin’s chest as she comes, her pent up energy finally releasing in a sweat-slicked spasm. Corrin grips Azura, tugging her into an embrace as her hips buck against her. Azura presses her lips into Corrin’s, a desperate kiss to muffle both of their moans. They break the kiss at last and Azura collapses on her, tucking her head in the crook of Corrin’s neck, chest heaving.

 

Corrin hums contentedly, lifting a hand to brush Azura’s bangs from her eyes. She smiles softly, sleepily, questioningly.

 

Azura nods, kissing Corrin’s bare shoulder. “Gods, I love you,” she mutters, resting her head on Corrin’s chest. She closes her eyes and listens to Corrin’s slow heartbeat, feels the tangle of fingers stroking her long hair, and she lets herself drift off slowly to sleep, cradles in the arms of her lover.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was a commission! If you would like me to write words for you, shoot me a DM at @lucisevofficial.tumblr.com or cowboysneep@gmail.com


End file.
